


Remember Him

by Captain_Kieren



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Can also just be friendship, Crying, Emotional, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode Tag, F/M, Fix-It, Fluff, Forehead Kisses, Friendship, Gen, Hugging, Love, Post-Episode AU: s08e01 Deep Breath, Reunion, Reunions, Romance, if you want it to be, whouffle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-11-15 20:43:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18080573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Captain_Kieren/pseuds/Captain_Kieren
Summary: Clara and the newly-regenerated Doctor are on a relaxing trip to a leisure planet when they run into someone from their pasts: the Doctor.Or, the one where Clara gets to see 11 one more time.





	Remember Him

**Author's Note:**

> So, I just finished season 7 and had to say my goodbyes to Matt Smith. It was very emotional (his regeneration speech literally had me crying.) I watched the first episode of season 8 and, while I love what it did, I still found myself missing 11 terribly. So, I wrote this to help myself cope.

Planet Utera of the Gouhiri system, nicknamed “the golden planet.” The Doctor’s been here a thousand times (not an exaggeration.) The shining soil under his feet is almost as familiar as Earth’s grass to him, and its glowing capital city, Nibos, is one of the most beautiful, relaxing places in the known universe. Where else better to go after his absolute whopper of a regeneration than here?

True, he’s not usually one for kicking up his feet and relaxing, but he’s Scottish now! And old. Maybe he’s a relaxer too. Old people like to relax, don’t they?

“What’s this place?” Clara asks, practically hopping in excitement behind him. Her round face is glowing, but he can still see the pinkish trails on her cheeks where she wiped away her tears. This regeneration hasn’t only been hard on him.

“Nibos!” The Doctor proclaims, throwing a hand into the air. He twirls around and steps out of the TARDIS, admiring his parking job. The ship has set down on a quiet hill outside the metropolis. Not bad, not bad at all. “The capital city of Utera, the golden planet.”

“Hang on!” Clara bends down, examining the ground. Her head snaps up, eyes huge. “Is the soil made of gold?”

The Doctor nods, barely hearing her. He’s just noticed that he now has to stoop a bit to lock the TARDIS. Lordy, has he gotten taller? Or shorter? No, definitely taller. Feels…wibbly. “The ground soil on Utera is approximately 50% gold dust, depending on where you are.”

Clara gasps a laugh. “That is—okay!” She shakes her head in awe. If she thinks that’s good, wait until she sees the city.

“Come on.” The Doctor waves for her to follow him and she does, skipping a little and then falling step beside him. He can’t tell if her enthusiasm is 100% authentic. It seems too abrupt. She was about to walk out on him, not twenty minutes ago.

Still, maybe this is easier. Pretending nothing’s changed.

“Where are we going?” she asks, her voice a bit strained as she focuses on walking down the slippery hill in her heeled boots.

“Sightseeing! I’ve been to this planet a thousand times, but there’s always something new to see. It’s always changing.”

Clara hums quietly and says, “Sounds familiar,” under her breath. The Doctor decides not to comment. She probably didn’t mean it in a bad way.

If Utera is the golden planet, then Nibos is the enormous, shining ruby in the center of the crown. The city is dominated by staggeringly high towers, built from a smooth, red metal found only on Utera. Mammoth trees with golden leaves sway alongside the red-stone walkways into the city. The grass, the stone, and everything is dusted with shiny, yellow petals the size of your thumbnail. Like confetti.

“Oh, wow,” Clara breathes, turning in a circle as she walks. The Doctor thinks that the only familiar thing to her must be the sky, which is at least blue. “This place is…”

“Beautiful?” The Doctor supplies, smiling.

She scoffs, stooping to grab a handful of petals. “Beautiful doesn’t do it justice.”

“I know. That’s part of the reason I come here so often.”

“What’s the other reason?” She smiles up at him and the Doctor is at least glad to see that her tear stains have faded.

“Utera has one of the finest tech markets in the system,” he says. “I come here often to resupply on parts for the TARDIS or my sonic. You can imagine technology like that is hard to come by nowadays.”

Clara nods wisely. “So, it’s like future vintage Tesco.”

The Doctor frowns at the association. But then again, he frowns at a lot of things now. Goes with the face.

The city is bustling today, as it always is. Crowds of humanoids and non-humanoids flooding down the pavement in droves. All over the streets, there are canopied market stalls selling everything from fried Onriri birds to severed Cyberman pieces. Farther up the way in the downtown are the parks, gardens, and spas. They are what the city is truly known for…but come to think of it, the Doctor has only seen them a few times.

It’s not his fault, though. He’s a busy man.

“So, what do you want to see?” he asks Clara. “Here’s the market. Up that way is Luirus, the largest luxury spa in the galaxy. And oh!” He points down a road as they pass. “That way is the Chuilea.”

“What’s the Chuilea?” Clara asks, bouncing on her toes.

“Three words, Clara: Alien. Petting. Zoo.” The Doctor grins at her, but Clara doesn’t jump with joy or melt at the idea of fuzzy, alien creatures like he thought she would. In fact, all of a sudden, she doesn’t seem to be hearing him at all. Her eyes have gone all big and she’s looking at something over his shoulder.

He turns and follows her gaze and—oh. _Oh._

Hm, well. This is new. He’s usually so good at avoiding this kind of situation (well the paradoxes usually help him steer away but that’s beside the point.) Must be the new console.

His younger self is busily bartering over a fusion cell with a hooded merchant. He doesn’t even see them, but Clara sees him. Her hand shakes as it passes over her mouth and the Doctor thinks he hears her whisper _oh, my God._

“Doctor,” Clara whispers. Her eyes have gone watery. “Is that--?”

The Doctor sighs. “Yes, it is.” Oh, great timing on this happening. Talk about rubbing salt in an open wound.

She looks at him as one tear trails down her cheek, right in the same place that just dried. “Can I--?”

She really shouldn’t. But he nods anyway. “But I can’t go with you. Paradoxes and all that. And don’t mention you’re with me.”

She pauses. “How will I explain how I’m here?”

He shrugs, smiling gently. “I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

Clara hesitates only another second before taking off. She walks stiffly, but calmly. Good, he thinks. Best not to draw attention. He can almost see her heart pounding.

 

* * *

 

She feels like she’s dreaming.

            The red-golden marketplace swims by her in a blur of shaking breath and barely-suppressed tears. She isn’t sure if she should be crying or laughing.

            Because he’s _right there_. The Doctor. Her Doctor.

            She barely has enough time to scold herself for thinking that, and then she’s upon him. He still hasn’t seen her and it’s almost amusing. Her heart is thundering so hard it hurts. For a minute, she just stands there behind him, wringing her hands, wondering how to do this.

            To him, in his timeline, they’re still together. Or maybe they haven’t met yet. Maybe this Doctor doesn’t know her.

            That thought is almost enough to send her running back to the Doctor—the other Doctor. Her Doctor? Ugh, this is so confusing! Before she can make a decision, the younger Doctor turns.

            Clara’s breath stops in her throat. His face twists up in confusion.

            “Clara?” he demands. “What in the blazes--?” He does a full three-sixty turn. “How did you get here!” His voice, his movements, everything is so familiar. It’s like he never changed. It’s like he never left. Like she’s flashed back in time all on her own. It sends her head reeling.

            The breathy laugh shakes out of her before she can stop it. “Oh, you know,” she says lightly, rubbing at her eyes. “A girl has her ways.”

            He doesn’t look convinced, but he’s more concerned with the tears. “Hey, hey.” He steps closer, his voice softening. “What’s the matter?” His hand brushes her cheek, brushing away the tears. She catches it.

            “Nothing,” she assures him, smiling for real. “I’m just happy to see you.”

            He’s so confused, poor thing. And then it clicks. “Ahh, I get it.” He peeks around discretely. “You’re here with me, aren’t you? Me from the future.” He grins at her, all bright-eyed like they’re two kids sharing a secret. “And going by your reaction, I must have regenerated. Oh, I get to do that again? Oh, that's good. That's clever. Twelve regenerations, my behind!" He laughs and rubs his hands together.

            She almost denies it, but he’s so sure that she can tell there’s no point. “Yeah, okay. But don’t go trying to figure out which one you are. Paradoxes!”

            He waves her away. “I know, I know.” Then he takes a step back, admiring her. Their hands are laced together and Clara has forgotten everyone else in the market. They could be alone together, for all she sees. “Clara Oswald,” he says gently. “How long has it been, eh? For you?”

            She shakes her head. “I don’t think I’m allowed to tell you.”

            He huffs a breath. “Well, I’m just a downright buzz kill in the future, aren’t I?”

            She laughs. “I wouldn’t say that, exactly.”

            “Well, I’m still cool, right? I’m not some dodgery, old man, am I?”

            She has to hold her smile in place. “No…course not.”

            “Good, good!” Suddenly, he lets her hands go and plants a kiss on her forehead. “So, how much time have you got? Care for a little trip? I’m sure the other me would understand.”

            Clara laughs and shakes her head. “I really can’t,” she says and he groans.

            “Oh, come on, Clara! One last time! You and me!” He jumps and rubs his hands together, eagerly. But Clara shakes her head again.

            “I really can’t. I just needed to—wanted to…see you. One more time, you know?”

            The Doctor sobers at her expression. “Oh,” he says. “It was recent, wasn’t it? Very recent.”

            She nods and tries very hard not to cry, but her lower lip wobbles and her voice trembles. “I just wanted to say…” She thinks hard for some string of words that can convey how much he means to her. How much she has loved being with him. How much she misses him, even though he’s waiting a dozen paces behind her, waiting for her to turn around and let go.

            God, she thought she was past this. But she misses him. She still misses him so much. Maybe she won’t ever stop.

            The funny thing is, she can’t think of anything to say. Goodbye? They’ve already said that on the telephone. Besides, that would feel too much like an ending. And the Doctor doesn’t like endings. Frankly, neither does she.

            Clara sniffles and takes his hand. He watches her closely but doesn’t say anything, letting her speak at her own pace. “I just wanted to say…” She reaches up and straightens his bow tie. “Thank you, Doctor.” She smiles at him. “And I’ll see you around, okay?”

            A small smile graces his lips and the warmth and understanding in his eyes is so _him._ “Clara Oswald,” he says, wrapping his arms around her. “My impossible girl. You are so welcome.” When he lets go, he kisses the crown of her head one time, and then smirks. “And I’ll see you around. Now, better get going. I imagine the Doctor is waiting for you and I am not a patient man.”

            She laughs. “All right. So, turn around, you. And I won’t have any peeking!”

            He laughs too and obediently turns around.

            Clara backs away slowly, then turns and heads back down the street to where the Doctor is waiting.

He has a newspaper in his hands, feigning disinterest as if he hasn’t been watching the whole time. When she appears beside him, he looks up and pretends to be surprised that she’s back. “Clara,” he greets coolly. “How was it? How was he?”

She pauses, appraising him. “Good,” she says. “He was good.”

The Doctor hums and straightens from his reading. “Well, then…what do you want to do now?” His tone is almost grim. He’s asking her more than whether or not she wants to go to that petting zoo…

Not for the first time, Clara looks into this new Doctor’s eyes, deep into them, trying to see something. Some scrap of his old self. Something recognizable. She hasn’t found it yet, and maybe she never will. But being with the Doctor, having his steady presence at her side, is enough. It’s more than enough.

Maybe he’s changed. Maybe he looks different, and sounds different, and acts different…but he’s still him. He’s still the Doctor, and she’ll stay with him forever if she can. And in a time machine, forever is a long time.

“I think I’d like to go check out that alien petting zoo. What do you think?” She smiles and slowly, he smiles back.

“All right, then,” he says. “Come along, Clara.”


End file.
